


All The Lights in the City(and My Little Light Shines the Brightest)

by RodimusPrime036



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Mentioned Cayde-6 (Destiny), Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Solus Simping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodimusPrime036/pseuds/RodimusPrime036
Summary: Marksman has never experienced a Dawning before. Solus decides that he has a lot to make up for, starting with hot cocoa.
Relationships: Ghost/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

The ship hums steadily when it breaks through orbit and glides above the city. Solus focuses on the steady flight, hovering comfortably above the dash while they draw closer to the battered tower and its livelier area beneath, where the Guardians resided. They had been out for just over a week; helping Eris on the moon, then dropping in to assist a distressed Failsafe before trudging back across the solar system, back to Earth.

"Why does the city look like that?" Marksman sounds confused when he speaks, leaning up to rest his forearms on the dash to peer out through the glass. Solus perks up, following his gaze down to the buildings below. _Ah_ , he had forgotten what time it was. A blanket of white covered the rooftops, with dark streaks to mark streets where tiny people bustled with life. "It snowed," Solus chirps pleasantly. "Dawning has started." He notes the way that Marksman frowns, the subtle slant to his eyes while his mouth glowed yellow with speech. "Dawning?" And then, "I thought there was only snow on Europa."

For a brief moment, Solus is startled. Then he remembers; the entirety of last Dawning, from October to January, his guardian had been active with Eris to try and learn about the hive and the pyramids. It had entirely fled the ghost's mind- by the time they had returned, the snow had melted, the celebration was over, and Marksman had quickly been swept back into work. He had forgotten completely about the festivities, and felt a minor pang of regret at the realization that his partner's _first_ -first Dawning had been spent hacking at hive and exploring caves. Ah, well, they had this Dawning, and Solus would fight with Zavala as much as he needed to insure his Guardian got the chance to enjoy the city at its brightest.

"Dawning is a celebration." He explains happily, admiring the snow while they drew nearer to the tower. "Everyone gathers together, and the spirit of giving, and being there for one another. You'd love it- the food always looks good, and people always make those lemon cakes you like so much." Marksman churrs softly, gently pets at one of Solus' flippers and gazes thoughtfully down at the city. "It sounds interesting," he muses, and Solus gives a sound of agreement. "You'll love it, I promise. I used to love seeing all the lights, and watching all the people together…" he trails off a moment, wistful and quiet, then chirps out a musical note. "It'll be even better with you here! I can't wait until you learn how to make cookies!"

As they draw in to the tower and transmat into the courtyard, Solus decides that this Dawning will make up for all those his love had missed in the past.


	2. It Starts with Hot Cocoa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it tends to do, the festivities start with a steaming mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The snow crunches noisily under Marksman's boots when he stomps it in. There's a soft wonderment in his face as he takes in the sights, going out of his way to step through the powdery flakes and kick them up in little flurries of white. He's already got a small shiver going, no doubt from the abrupt change from his heated ship into the frosty air of the open courtyard, but he doesn't seem to mind as he admired the lights and glittery decorations littering the tower. His attention holds on the tree in the center- a huge, beautiful thing, with drooping blue leaves and sparkling golden lights that shone like mini stars from the branches. In the midst of Marksman's staring, Eva gathered a glimpse of him- and Solus quickly blinks away when she gestures the Guardian closer with a beaming grin on her features.

Solus twists easily around the other Guardian's in the tower, shell rotating slowly as he momentarily scoped out the area. It takes a brief moment before he spots the familiar Awoken, and he quickly glides over top the other's to get to the one he wanted. "Strider," He greets pleasantly, and the titan paused from his travel to look around for the ghost. "Solus? Where's Marksman?" The ghost huffs a sound of laughter, shell spinning as he gestured back towards Eva. Marksman rocked patiently back and forth on his heels, expression attentive but undeniably bored while she chattered excitedly about how to make cookies.

Strider shook his head slightly, an amused little smile quirking the corners of his mouth. "She'll talk with him for hours if we let her," he mutters, and Solus hovered over his shoulder when the Awoken strode across the courtyard towards his friend. "Marksman!" He calls, nudging the exo's shoulder with enough force that he swayed slightly in his spot. Marksman gave a chuff of laughter, returning the motion and clapping a hand over Strider's shoulder. One of their more moderate greetings, Solus noted, considering they tended to crash full force into each other while out on duty. "I've been waiting for you! Cayde said he would take us through the city, if you wanted to join." Strider offers, giving a kind smile over to Eva. "If you aren't busy here, that is." She waves them off, expression as warm as her words. "Nonsense, he must go and see the wonder of Dawning! Remember to make treats and have fun!" She reminded, while Strider led the fellow titan off towards the hanger.

They chat comfortably between one another, their companionship easy and familiar. They had been a near inseparable fireteam since their revives, and Solus was thankful his Guardian had managed to find someone to trust. (Traveler knew that the exo needed a Guardian to talk to, and Solus was glad someone like Strider had filled that role.) There is no snow down in the hanger, aside from what many Guardian's boots had dragged in, but the shiny decoration still held enough of Marksman's attention that it didn't seem to bother him. "Oh hey, you guys made it!" Cayde's voice is loud in the quiet thrum of the hanger, but none seem particularly interested in investigating the cause while the exo hurries over. He and Strider embrace for a moment, the titan towering over the hunter, and when they break apart they don't step far away from one another. "First Dawning, big occasion," the hunter continues, beaming brilliantly at the golden exo and his ghost. "Whaddya say we ditch the tower and check out the city?"

They leave their sparrows at the first street they find that has vendors. The vehicles are transmatted away quickly by attentive ghosts, and Marksman gives an appreciative little hum to Solus while they follow behind Strider and Cayde. (If Marksman and Strider were inseparable, than Cayde and Strider were like glue. The two hardly stepped more than a foot away from the other, not that Solus could blame them.) The city is beautiful this time of year, filled with shops broadcasting their wares, decorated with twinkling lights and glittering snowflakes. Cayde leads them along- he's speaking, not that Solus catches any of it, far too distracted by the way the lights bounce softly off of his Guardian's faceplates, the open awe in his expression as he admired anything that sparkled,- but he pays more attention when they duck into a small shop hidden between two shinier buildings.

This new shop- no, a cafe,- is warm and inviting. They sidle into a booth in the corner, and Cayde makes a hand motion to the waitress, and she bustles off into the back of the room. It's quiet, here, despite the gentle murmur of sound outside the building. The lights are dim, soft music filtering through the room with quiet conversations between the few other guests, and Solus settles comfortably into the crook of Marksman's neck while Cayde and Strider speak softly between themselves. The exo titan turns his head slightly, gently bumps his mouth against the ghost's optic and speaks in a warm hum. "My Light," and the undertone of a low, rumbling purr makes the ghost's shell sink in a soft, affectionate motion. There were more words than that, hidden behind the cooed nickname, more _meaning_ , but Solus doesn't need them verbally said, not when the intent is so obvious a blind hive larvae could see it.

The waitress returns, holding a tray in one hand as she weaves around tables and between chairs. She's graceful in her movements as she carefully slides three mugs over the table, each nearly overflowing with marshmallows and warm cocoa dipping her head in pleasant greeting and offering a bright smile. "Anything else for you guys?" She questions, and Strider shakes his head. "This is great, thank you," he assures pleasantly, and in a flash she returns to her other guests. Marksman cradles the mug in one hand, peering down at the unfamiliar liquid and tapping a marshmallow with a single finger just to watch it bob back up to the surface. He sips at it cautiously- an odd, pleasant sort of heavy taste, rich chocolate and sharp peppermint, the startling sweetness of sugary marshmallows combined with the thick froth from the cocoa,- and he finds he rather enjoys the way the heated beverage warms his chest and fingers.

(Solus scratches hot cocoa off his mental list, and keeps tabs on the time. For now, he is content to admire the contented eyes of his partner while he enjoyed the festive drink.)


	3. Snowballs and Frigid Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snow is irresistibly perfect, therefore Marksman decides he had best mess it up- better he than someone else, right?

They take a detour before heading back to the tower. Their sparrows spatter snow behind them as they glide, enjoying the sights of the EDZ as they haul across open fields and weave between trees. The snow glitters like diamonds, like an endless collection of stars, pulled from the night sky with no inky backdrop to separate them. Solus remains hidden mostly away inside Marksman's backpack now, preferring the lack of risk compared to snuggling in his collar, (despite how much he immediately misses the warmth of cuddling into the crook of his neck. Oh, how he enjoyed his titan's extra solar heat, even if he couldn't really be affected much by the cold.)

They pull to a stop in an open field, Cayde being the first to slide from his sparrow down into the snow. It reaches nearly to his knees, and he reaches down, running his fingers through the powder and nodding slowly. Strider and Marksman are quick to follow off their sparrows, and while Strider sticks close by the hunter, Marksman happily kicks at the piles of white before sitting down with a pleased chirr. Despite the immediate shivers that wracked his frame, he seemed happy to card his fingers through the snow, and Solus emerged to watch over his guardian. The peace was short lived- a ball of the powder abruptly collided with the ghost's shell, and Solus gave a startled yelp when it tossed him into a flurry of the powder. He hears Cayde's rushed call of "Sorry! Meant to hit the big guy!" before Marksman is digging him out of the snow. He cradles the ghost in his hands, voice dramatic and terribly playful as he kneels over the little light. "Light of my life, my love, my darling ghost," he says, and Solus can see Strider's face going pale as he steps away from Cayde for the first time since they left the tower. "You have been bested, but fear not, for I shall avenge you." (It strikes Solus that this is the first time his Guardian had ever had that startling, beautiful, mischievous look to his eyes, that playful lilt to his tone, and he briefly hopes to get struck by more snowballs if it meant his Guardian would look as he does now.)

Cayde, poor, blissfully unaware Cayde, has hardly a moment before he is tackled into the snow by Solus' titan. The blue exo gives a startled cry when he gets flung into the icey powder, and sputters through the snow when Marksman promptly buries him beneath it. Strider returns the motion, clashing into Marksman with a flurry of white, and while Cayde struggles to dig free of the powder the two titans thrash through the glittering piles. Their laughter is loud, warm and so terribly _open_ that Solus almost wants to cry- (because when had his Guardian ever really laughed like _that_ before? When had he been allowed to be so carefree?)- but he shakes extra snow out of his shell instead, hovering just above the flurries to watch over the battle.

Marksman pins Strider in the flakes, using his forearm to pull a pile of snow over the Awoken's face as distraction before grabbing a new snowball and launching it back to Cayde. It sends the exo back down into the cold, earning an indignant cry in response. "This'll be in my cloak for hours!" Cayde whines, and Strider uses the moment to grab one of Marksman's decorative finials and yank him down into the snow. By the time they call it quits, the field is a mess of tumbled, powdery piles and half-smooshed snowballs. Half of Marksman's face is coated in a thick layer of the flakes after being crushed into the snow, while Strider shakes excess powder out of his armor and Cayde shakes it out of his cloak. (Solus collects some atop his shell and waits until Cayde is done before promptly dumping it back over the hunter. _"Payback,"_ he says, and Cayde huffs in false irritation. _"Just you wait until our next snowball fight,"_ Cayde replies.)

By the time they return to the tower, Marksman has taken to shivering again. Solus makes mental note to keep an eye on his Guardian's health after their snowy battle, though knows it's unnecessary, that Marksman could be healed- not to mention that he was an exo. They transmat into the courtyard, leaving Strider and Cayde to warm up in the hanger while Marksman shakes snow out of his armor and off his face. A few passing Guardians seem to have gotten up to their own adventures in the powder, giving Marksman a knowing glance and amused little laugh as he struggled to pry ice from the seams in his faceplates.

Despite the messy trip, (and Marksman's broken finial, which Solus quickly heals,) the ghost is pleased to mark snowball fights off his list.


	4. Mistletoe (and Kissing Under Poisonous Plants)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if he's learning about all the Dawning traditions, he'd best learn why he should give his ghost a kiss under every poisonous plant, right?

Marksman does not understand why there is a plant in the walkway of the tower. He watches with growing curiosity- when a couple walks beneath it, they grin and kiss, for no reason, it seems, other than the plant. He stares at it, slants his eyes and tries to make sense of the purpose behind the odd little bundle of leaves and its effect on people.

Solus notices the stare straight away. He follows Marksman's eyes, blinking his optic at the sight of the green plant. "It's mistletoe." He offers after a moment, and Marksman hums curiously. "Mistletoe," he repeats, as though tasting the word. "What does it do?" Solus is quiet for a minute, shell angled slightly downward in a familiar look of thoughtfulness. "Well, I suppose it doesn't really do anything." He finally replies, then, "I mean, it _is_ tradition to kiss someone if you pass under it. That's an old tradition- from before the Light was even here, from what I've heard." Marksman looks interested now, giving his full attention to the ghost. _"Why?"_ He asks, tilting his head to the left in that curious way he did, when he was genuinely confused and eager to know more. Solus found the motion endearing, shell angling slightly upward in a fond manner. "Well, I don't really know why, exactly. There's lots of stories about it. I just think it's sweet, though."

The exo hums again, low and thoughtful, eyes half closed in a manner not unlike a contented cat. He steps away from the railing he leaned against, approaching the plant cautiously and stopping a few feet away. For a moment, he is motionless, Solus hovering just above his shoulder while the titan seemed to be judging his next move. Abruptly, the Guardian snags his ghost in the palms of his hands and sits against doorway, just out of the way of the walkway but still close enough to the mistletoe waving in the wind. Solus gives a startled chirp at the heavy sound of the titan hitting the ground, but falls quickly silent after the metallic click of Marksman's forehead butting into Solus' flipper. He presses the spot between his eyes to Solus' optic, nuzzling against the ghost in soft circular motions and giving a low, rumbling purr. The sound is deep- easily mistakable for a growl if one wasn't familiar with it, starting with deeper rumbles and leading into slightly higher pitch on each unneeded inhale. Solus mimics the sound, far lighter and softer, but a purr nonetheless, and is rewarded by Marksman gently clicking their faces together again.

They stay there for far longer than necessary; Solus was unwilling to move away first, and Marksman seemed more than happy to keep his face pressed against the ghost's optic in imitation of a kiss. The titan's hands were terribly warm, fighting off the chill of the evening's frozen winds, and Solus dims his optic into a weak blue as he relaxed into the contact. The moment is (regretfully) ruined short after- Strider's voice is as loud as his footsteps when he rounds the corner and spots them. "Hey!" He calls happily, speeds up slightly. "Been looking for you two. Stop being all sappy- Cayde says it's gonna start soon. Won't tell me what, but said to keep an eye over the city." Marksman startles up, blinking owlishly at the fellow titan before turning his searching gaze to Solus. The ghost took a moment to blink and draw out of his daze, humming softly. "Ah, it is about that time, isn't it?" He muses, straightening his shell and lingering in the heat a moment longer before rising up. Marksman follows suit, stretching out as Strider spoke. "Getting dark out, so I dunno what we're s'posed to be seeing, but it's gotta be good if Cayde's excited about it."

Solus doesn't call out the fact that Cayde enjoyed a few questionable things, instead swiveling back to look at Marksman and giving a rather fond look that the Guardian happily returned. "He is right though, we had better get moving."

He marks mistletoe off his lists when they make their way back into the courtyard.


	5. The Lights, The Sights, Solus is Hopelessly in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was only fair to end such a wonderful day on a spectacular last note, wasn't it?

Strider disappears to find Cayde once Marksman starts moving, and Solus happily leads the way through the tower. They settle comfortably against the railing by the vault, peering down into the city, now painted with long shadows as the sun sank below the horizon. The Traveler is massive, an intimidating orb of white glowing out over the city like a moon, familiar but no less daunting. Solus viewed it as a friend in his familiarity with it. (Marksman was indifferent- thankful towards it, yes, but he could not call it a friend the same way Solus did.) 

The tree behind them glows brilliant shades of blue and gold, the branches whispering softly in the breeze when they brushed together. The fading sun painted the snow below like a sparkling canvas, brilliant shades of reds, oranges and yellows that glittered like a billion stars, reflective of the ones slowly finding their way into the inky blue sky above. When the sun finally finds rest beneath the skyline, and the remaining pinks and purples have faded into star-spattered black, (and Marksman is shivering harshly into his armor,) does it truly begin.

It starts small, with a splash of color in the tiny city below. Then, like a wave, more lights flicker to life, splotches of white, of red and green and blue and yellow, spreading like water through the buildings. Patterns- snowflakes, odd looking animals, trees and swirls and color that blink in and out and then change color entirely, until the city is suddenly alive with the dim, warm glow again. Red is the most prominent, with white and green following quickly behind. Marksman has an expressive Solus had never seen before; eyes wide, the golden ring within big and awed, like a cat seeing something interesting. He leans out over the railing, shaking hands gripping tight to the metal bar as he peers down into the brilliant display of light and color. "Do they do this every night?" He asks, voice hushed with wonderment. (Solus is distracted, staring at the way the distant glow shines like tiny stars on Marksman's face, the open sort of glee in his eyes, the subtle quirk to his cheeks that show a pleased smile as he stares into the city.) "Oh," the ghost murmurs, registering the question. Marksman doesn't seem bothered by the delay, still enraptured by the sighs below. "Yes, every night while the celebration is going." He finally replies, and Marksman nods slowly. "Can we come see it again?" 

Solus gives a soft sound of amusement, gently butting into the side of Marksman's face and speaking warmly. "Anytime you'd like, beloved," he assures, watching the way his Guardian lit up like the lights below.

(And Solus thinks that all the Dawnings he spent alone have been worth it, just to have this one, together with his Guardian, watching the stars reflect in his eyes.)


	6. Cookies (and Crying)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marksman can't cook (until he can.) Solus is a crybaby.

Solus didn't think there was anything his Guardian _couldn't_ do- or at the very least, couldn't _learn._ Perhaps that was why it struck as such a surprise to watch his titan glowering down into a large bowl, ingredients spattering the small kitchen and the oven provided by Eva spewing out thick smoke. "Guardian," he says, and the exo seems to _pout_ at the laughter in his voice. "What did you _do?"_

"I didn't do anything!" He sounds a little hurt, but Solus had been around him long enough to know that the exo was just trying to earn sympathy. (It worked, most of the time, but he's far too busy giggling and weaving across the room to pity his Guardian.) Marksman grabs a dish towel, grumbling to himself as he furiously beat at the black smoke still rising from the oven. Solus buzzed happily through the kitchen, using his shell to push open the window while Marksman slapped at the smoke. "Really? Because the fire seems to tell a different story," he chides, watching with amusement as Marksman spun on his heel to quickly swat out the licks of orange and yellow growing in the oven. "Have you-" he gasps softly, sudden realization dawning,- "have you never baked before? Oh, I should have known!" Marksman's pout deepened, a slant to his eyes and a distinct way his faceplates shifted, (and if you weren't Solus, one might not have even realized he was pouting at all,) and the Ghost gently butt into the Guardian's shoulder as he glided past. "You should have told me you needed help." He scolds, tone soft despite his stern look. He knew how hard it was to make the exo ask for help of any kind, despite how far they had come since his first awakening. (Solus  _ also _ knew that he was the only one the Guardian asked, which made him feel just a little silly for assuming Eva would have explained the concept of baking, or even that Marksman would ask her how to start.) 

He doesn't know if the titan had replied, as he twists his back flippers and gives a motion like a nod. Determination floods his shell, and he fixes Marksman with a softer look. "Let's go get some… not so burnt ingredients, alright? I've picked up a few recipes from other Dawnings, I'm sure we can make something,"  _ edible,  _ "to show appreciation for everyone who's helped us." Marksman seems hesitant, looking lamely around the kitchen with sunken shoulders, hands softly clenching around the dish towel.  _ Ah, no, _ Solus can already see the disheartened dimming of his Guardian's eyes, as he slowly drags the towel over some of the sticky batter on the counter. "My love," the ghost prompts, even softer now, and continues speaking with Marksman's meets his gaze. "We can do this  _ together _ , alright? I want to experience this with you." 

Marksman is still quiet, (he didn't talk when he was feeling upset, and Solus understood his silence,) but he nodded slowly and stepped away from his place hunkered beside the stove. The smoke had faded, fresh, cold air replacing its heat, and once double checking that the oven's embers had been cooled, they made their way out of the apartment. 

• °•°•°•°•

The titan seems far more pleased once they land on Nessus. His sparrow hums, wind whistling through his armor as he hauled across the planet. He's at least speaking again, soft and easy, when Solus asks questions, and he slows when they spot a crowd of vex. "Stop!" Solus chirps, and Marksman idled far enough to avoid the machine's attention. "This recipe calls for… Radiolaria. Vex milk." He sounds a bit thrown off, and Marksman gives a huff of laughter. "Oh, hush. Go for the center- I think vex milk is alright if we only use a little bit." The titan is smiling, he can tell by the subtle way he throws his shoulders back and tilts his chin up- the same motion he made when he laughed, though a bit softer. Marksman's laughter was beautiful; a warm, deep sound, and he would toss his shoulders and head back, would cross an arm over his stomach, his faceplates shifting until there was an undeniable grin drawn over his face. His eyes would slant upwards, (if he was human, Solus would have been able to see the lines around his eyes when he smiled,) until the yellow ring was big and half hidden by his cheeks. (Solus adored his laugh, his smile, the way he moved to show his emotion, the openness in his feelings around the ghost.) 

By the time Solus could drag himself out of his thoughts, Marksman had finished off the vex and was crouched before one of the bodies. He was mumbling softly to himself- "move…  _ here, _ get to the chamber inside…"- and then he stands with a triumphant little hop. He's cradling a tube, pried out of the goblin's abdomen. Its contents swirl, milky white, sparks dancing within the glass. The Guardian looked like a pleased cat, chest puffed slightly as he presented his catch to the hovering Ghost. "Good work," Solus praises, watches the way Marksman dips his head slightly and does a small shuffle.  _ Embarrased,  _ Solus notes, with more than a small bit of pride. "Let's go get the rest of our ingredients, then we'll head home, alright?" He momentarily bumps into the Guardian's helmet, humming happily when Marksman nuzzled gently into his optic. Agreement, wordless and accepting, and Solus transmats them to the ship.

•°•°•°•°•

"If you glare at that any longer, you'll light it on fire.  _ Again."  _ Solus doesn't need to look up from his inspection to know Marksman was glowering at the oven again, and judging by the titan's immediate head tilt, he would say he was correct. The ghost was counting out their ingredients, mentally recapping his previous Dawnings as he went along the list. They'd tidied the kitchen from Marksman's previous…  _ adventure, _ and now the exo stood readily beside the ghost, (usually glaring daggers at the oven.) "You know, I learned this recipe… oh, at least ten years ago, give or take? From another titan." Marksman twists to face him fully, eyes slanted and head tilted to the left. Solus tries to remember how much butter was needed. "It was on… on Mercury, I think? She was taking me along while I looked for you- I hitchhiked quite a bit- and she baked these over a campfire. I think we can do just the same with an actual oven, though." Marksman is terribly quiet, and Solus continued hesitantly. "My love? Is everything alright?" He looks up from estimating the exact temperature of an open fire- and is startled to note the sorrow written across his Guardian's features. "Beloved?" He chirps worriedly, flits quickly into the titan's face and peers at his expression. "I'm fine, Solus," Marksman sounds fondly amused, but the soft fall to his voice is terribly revealing. Then, after a moment, "I wish I was with you, back then." He admits. "I don't like the thought of you being alone- even if you  _ were _ with another Guardian,"  **_especially_ ** _ if you were with another Guardian  _ remains unsaid. "All that time without me… I wish I was there, with you. To help make those memories." He runs a finger over Solus' flipper, humming thoughtfully, and the ghost remained quiet a moment. "Love, you were  _ dead."  _ Amusement tinges his tone. "And you're here  _ now. _ All that time I was  _ without _ you was just getting me ready to appreciate you  _ being  _ here even more, because you're  _ my _ Guardian, and I'm  _ your _ ghost." He leans into Marksman's hand, cooing softer. "Why don't we make a new recipe? One just for us, that no one else has made before." Marksman perks up; his fingers press softly against his shell, and he nods quickly as he leans forward to butt their faces together. "You are, as always, absolutely brilliant, my light." (And yes, maybe Solus is a little proud at how quickly he flipped his Guardian's mood. He'd like to see anybody else try to do  _ that, _ ghost  _ or _ guardian. He'd like to see anyone else get that rounded-cheek smile, or earn one of those grumbling purrs. They would fail, and he knew it.) 

He guides the Guardian through the baking, draws on his old knowledge while experimenting with new ingredients- "add one- no, no,  _ two _ cups of flour here… don't forget the eggs, and just a  _ little  _ bit of vex milk,"- until they finally shaped and baked the cookies. Icing came next; Marksman was more than eager to take over there, seemingly taking great interest in his work as he waved Solus out of the kitchen and hunkered over his cooled cookies. "It's a  _ surprise,"  _ Marksman had scolded when he tried to snoop over his frosting, "you can't see it yet." Now, the ghost sat in the window, watching the snow settle in the city while listening to Marksman bustling through the kitchen, humming happily to himself. (It was so lovely; listening to the sound of his Guardian being  _ happy.  _ His pleased little hums and chirps as he sang to himself, the gentle  _ thunks _ when he used a hip to close a drawer, the domestic sounds of a happy baker in his element. Well, not quite a  _ baker,  _ but a happy cookie decorator.) 

Solus was startled when Marksman called out to him, an eager little cry of "my soul, my heart, my beloved!" as he pattered out of the kitchen.  _ He knows his Guardian is happy, by that brilliant light in his eyes, the volume of his call.  _ The titan is holding a large plate, moving quickly across the room to kneel beside the ghost. "Yes, love?" Solus chirped, turning quickly to see his exo. His shell twists, spinning and expanding happily at the infectious joy his partner was generating. Then, he notices; the cookies look  _ good, _ golden yellow in color with bright frosting settled atop them. Flavored with lemon, thus causing the coloring, with sweet vanilla frosting colored with whatever Marksman had seen fit. And… and they looked like  _ him, _ even if a little smudged and messy. A blue circle in the center of a black circle, the outline of his flippers in thin black lines with his shell colored white, basic but  _ perfect. ( _ And no,  _ no, _ he wouldn't cry, even if he gave a strangled little sound- because he had never seen anything cuter than his puppy-eyed Guardian eagerly showing him cookies decorated in his image. And no one had done half of the thoughtful things Marksman had, let alone  _ made cookies that looked like him, _ and he had never felt quite as in love with his golden-faced beloved before.  _ Well, that may have been a lie, but he was undeniably, absolutely, wonderfully reminded of how much he adored the titan.)  _ "Solus Sparklers," Marksman announces, staring down at the cookies with open excitement. "Because they look like you, and because you sparkle brighter than every light in the entire city." He says it so matter of fact- there was no area for argument, the firmness of a titan standing his ground. ( _ No,  _ **_no,_ ** _ he would  _ **_not_ ** _ cry over  _ **_cookies-)_ ** "and because you are my soul, my heart, my purpose, and I love you more than all the sparkling stars in the sky." And ah, he can't choke down the synthetic sniffling, or the audible whimper as he speaks in a terribly crackling voice. "Those are the best cookies I've ever seen." He croaks, giggling out a weepy sound when Marksman chirps nervously and curls a hand around his shell. "I'm- I'm okay," he assures, inhaling even if it was unneeded. "I'm just thankful to have you." Marksman's eyes slant, almond shaped pools of honeyed gold that peer down at Solus with such open admiration that the ghost feels himself choking up again. "My light," he croons, gently places the tray on the floor so he can cradle his shell with both hands. "You'll have me until my Light leaves me, until the sun dies and the stars fade from the sky." He rests his chin on the windowsill, presses his mouth to Solus' freckle and stays there while he speaks. (The yellow light of his mouth when he speaks is soothing when it glows in front of the ghost's optic.) "If naming a cookie after you makes you cry, I'd hate for you to see what else I have planned for Dawning." His tone is affectionate and amused, the delicate undertone of soft concern evident, his fingers tapping gently against his shell. "You made plans for us?" Solus' voice is trembling, even as his shell expanded in a motion of excitement. Marksman laughs softly, sits back and nods once. "I did, and they start with us delivering some cookies." 

(And if anyone notices how close Solus snuggles into the crook of his neck, and the way Marksman rests his cheek atop his shell, or how Solus' voice sometimes breaks when he explains how the cookies got their name- no one in the tower says anything.)


End file.
